Pee shirt

I woke up Lyla this morning like I do every morning. I was running late like I always am. She was groggy and cute like she always is.

When I pulled her out of the crib, however, the peaceful ordinariness of the morning ended with a sploosh. It was her crotch hitting my stomach: pee, lots of pee, enough pee to treat hundreds and hundreds of jellyfish bites.

(According to several reputable-looking websites that I found by Googling "peeing on a jellyfish," pee has no positive effect on jellyfish bites and can actually make the pain worse. The rumor that you should recruit someone to pee on your jellyfish bite was started by a jellyfish.)

So anyway, I removed Lyla's soaked onesie and complete failure of a diaper, got her cleaned up and into her clothes, and then freaked out because now I was really running late and had pee on my shirt.

I didn't want to change, so Julie suggested that I remove the shirt, get the pee spot nice and wet with water, and then use the hair dryer to evaporate everything. It seemed to work, but if I had a chemistry set and any knowledge at all about chemistry, I bet I could devise an experiment to prove that whereas all the water evaporated, there were still trace elements of pee, and not parts per billion or million, but parts per thousand, maybe hundred.

And that's gross. I am gross. I wore a pee shirt today.